


Call You Home

by cosmicenergy



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, New York City, derek nurse is in love y'all, derek nurse is poetic as fuck, this is also a love letter to will poindexter and maine if i'm being honest, this is pretty much just a love letter to new york city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicenergy/pseuds/cosmicenergy
Summary: Derek's first love was New York. His second love was hockey. His third was Will Poindexter.
Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse & William "Dex" Poindexter, Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 29
Kudos: 130





	Call You Home

> I was going for the title, got hit by your tidal wave,
> 
> Can't stay in the shallows, please tell me I won't wash away;
> 
> When it pulls me under, will you make me stronger,
> 
> Will you be my breath through the deep, deep water
> 
> — _Deep Water_ , American Authors

It’s always easier to breathe in New York City.

Derek never quite understood why that was, but for as long as he could remember the sounds of mid-day traffic and the chatter of street vendors and tourists alike had always been able to steady his pulse and clear his mind. Maybe it’s because New York was as familiar to him as the back of his hand; intertwined with every fiber of his being to the point where he’s not even sure where the city ends and his own soul begins.

The streets of New York run parallel to the veins in his body, stretching for miles from the palms of his hands to the tips of his ears to the soles of his feet. He feels the city pulsing within him; from every crowded nightclub to packed subway car to bustling train station. 

He loves walking the city streets and stopping in unnamed museums, always ready to listen to the song of the city ring out, loud and proud, from the paintings that line the gallery walls. Art is always better in the city, Derek notices. He notices that the paintings are always bolder, more bright and beautiful, and they are always proud to be made in New York. 

Derek likes to think of himself as one of the paintings in the gallery; just another one of New York’s humans that sings of the song of the city through every single fiber of their _god damn being_. It’s his favorite song, one that will always stick in his head no matter how many miles stretch between him and these streets.

The first time Derek lived outside of New York, it felt like he was drowning. In upstate Massachusetts, Andover was the complete opposite of everything Derek knew and loved about the city. Though, realistically speaking, Derek knew Andover’s campus was beautiful; with it’s old antique buildings and tree-lined pathways and historic statues, it should have been a more than adequate place to go to school. But the forest and hills that surrounded the campus didn’t sing the way that the crowded streets of New York did. 

Every time Derek would try to sleep at night, listening to the rustling of leaves and howling wind, he couldn’t help but long to hear the rumble of car engines and the notes of jazz music that echo throughout New York City’s streets late at night. The silence that persisted over Andover was seeping in, slow and steady, but Derek could feel the quiet filling up his lungs like water flowing down a stream.

He knew he didn’t want to drown there, at Andover with it’s pretty streets and uptight students, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to swim. 

Every summer until graduation, Derek soaked up as much of the city as he could possibly manage. He poked his head in every nook and cranny that the city would offer up to him; from Manhattan to the Bronx, from Brooklyn to Queens. The boroughs were already his backyard, but as staying afloat at Andover got more and more difficult, they became a life raft that he never knew he needed.

During those summers and holiday breaks spent exploring New York City, Derek wrote. Poems flowed out of him like the water that flowed down the Hudson; constant and steady and always _New York_. In the lonesome quiet of his family’s brownstone, as a soft haze was cast down by his desk lamp, Derek wrote stanza after stanza about the city that lives inside him as much as he lives inside it.

The week before he graduated from Andover, the poems were published.

The series was titled _Love Letters to New York_ , and it was the first collection of poems he had ever gotten published. In the weeks that followed, Derek felt as though the song of New York was turned up inside him to eleven; he was loud and proud and unabashedly _New York_.

-

The second time Derek lived outside New York, he was ready. He was determined not to let himself almost drown again, and found himself arriving proudly at Samwell’s doorstep with his hockey skates in one hand and pen in the other; the soundtrack of New York City drumming through him every step of the way. 

He had learned a lot from Andover, but most importantly he learned that you could take a person out of New York City, but you couldn’t take the city out of a New Yorker. 

And Derek Nurse was a New Yorker, through and through.

His first semester at Samwell, he met two other boys whose city’s songs rivaled his own. One was from California, and Derek could hear the calming sounds of a laid-back and cheerful lifestyle practically radiating off of the black-haired boy. Derek had never been to California, but just from looking at Chris Chow he seemed to be able to understand it.

The other was a red-head from Maine; and Derek could hear the loud crashing of ocean waves and fog horns at decibels that rivaled the volume of song that played out from his own heart. Will Poindexter was uptight and standoffish, but somehow despite his first impression was still inviting; like the years living on the coast of Maine had hardened his exterior but had somehow kept his heart warm and dry. 

And although they quickly fell into a routine of arguing over anything and everything, there was a part of Derek that longed to know more. He wanted to know more about the boy with the short temper and pale skin, who had freckles for days and honey-colored eyes and scars on his knuckles. He wanted to know what it was like growing up that close to the water; what the waves crashing on the shoreline sounded like from the early mornings to the late evenings. 

Will Poindexter, who was quickly nicknamed Dex by the hockey team, was a human unlike any other Derek had ever met. Perhaps it was this that seemed to draw Derek to him, as if the universe was enabling his own curiosity. Despite their continued bickering, they learned to have each other’s back on and off the ice. 

Derek was grateful for this, for as his first semester passed he was finding it harder and harder to keep the water from getting in. He had been away from New York for too long, and although Samwell seemed like a place he could one day love, he knew that it would never replace his New York. Dex had become a constant in Derek’s life, which was a surprise in itself, but his presence had managed to keep the water at bay. Derek didn’t quite understand how, but his presence alone seemed to sooth the water that was always threatening to rise up in his lungs. 

It was always in the little things, like _hey Nurse I brought you coffee_ or _Nursey eat this protein bar so you don’t die at practice_ or _dude do want to check out that pizza place with C and I later? It has that New York style that you like_. And sometimes there were unspoken moments too, like a soft gaze from across the table or a shoulder to lean on after a tough loss, that managed to keep Derek afloat in a way that he didn’t know was possible.

Dex somehow managed to make Derek feel like he was back home in New York, which shouldn’t have been possible especially after Derek discovered that Dex had never been to New York in his entire life.

(“Bro, how have you not been to New York?” He asked after Dex had offhandedly mentioned that he had no clue how the subway system worked.

“I don’t know, Nurse! Shit’s mad expensive, plus I never knew anyone who would have wanted to go with me there, anyway.”

Derek had sighed, pausing a moment before throwing his pen at the man sitting across from him. He watched Dex huff in annoyance before throwing the pen back at him.)

After that, the conversation had lulled into other topics, but Derek couldn’t help but see a little bit more of New York in Dex than he had before. Maybe it was just Derek projecting, or maybe it was just his homesickness shining through, but in those moments Dex reminded him of every midnight walk home from central park and 6 a.m. coffee run that his city had to offer.

Dex was captivating in all the ways he shouldn’t have been, but Derek was determined to figure him out anyway.

(And if in that process Derek had filled pages and pages of notebooks with sonnets about fiery hair and amber eyes, protective arms and constellations that covered porcelain skin, then so be it.)

-

The third time Derek lived outside New York City was the summer in between his junior and senior year at Samwell. His first three years of college had passed by like the calm before a storm; the pressure inside him building and building, chanting inside his soul for him to _go home, Derek, New York needs you_.

But Derek didn’t go home. Not that he wasn’t planning on skipping out on time in his favorite city, however. He had been counting down the days until he would go back to New York City since the day after they had won the frozen four championship. High on post-victory adrenaline and happiness, he remembered counting the days left of the semester on the calendar on his desk during the middle of their victory kegster.

It wasn’t until Dex found him sitting on his bed, calendar in one hand and framed photo of the city in the other, that he was finally dragged back out into the party. Derek almost protested going back, but the words died on the tip of his tongue when Dex wrapped a hand around his wrist and pulled him off the bed. He heard Dex mumble something under his breath, probably a chirp if he was being completely honest, but Derek couldn’t hear it over the pounding bass from the Haus stereo system and the beat of New York that was thumping inside him.

He _was_ set to leave for New York the day after his last final in May, and then he would finally get to be back in his city. That was the plan, until Dex got involved two days before Derek’s last final exam. 

Derek had just left his biology final, and was still in the process of grumbling about how he wasn’t going to need biology to write poetry, before noticing a familiar mop of red hair walking across the quad. Derek would recognize that hair anywhere. 

(Though it really was pretty unique hair color, so maybe it was less of a special skill than Derek really thought it was. His innate ability to pick Dex out of a crowd was always something he would claim existed purely because of their d-man bond.)

“How’s my favorite d-man?” Derek asked when he had finally caught up to the other man, swinging a casual arm around Dex. He watched as Dex’s cheeks turned red, a color that has grown to become one of his favorites over the past three years, and felt a twinge of pride swell in his chest. 

“I’m your only d-man, Nurse.”

“Damn right, Dexy,” Derek said loudly, watching as Dex rolled his eyes fondly. There hadn’t been any annoyance in his eye rolls lately, and Derek was quickly forgetting what it was like when there was any malice between them to begin with. “You better not have another secret defense partner that you’ve been keeping from me.”

In lieu of a response, Dex just rolled his eyes again but didn’t push Derek’s arm off of his shoulders, so Derek considered it a win. They continued walking across the quad as a comfortable breeze blew around them; warm enough that Derek could tell that summer was right around the corner. 

“Shouldn’t you be taking an exam right now?” Dex asked as they had come to a stop in front of the library, finally shaking off Derek’s arm from around his shoulder. Derek chose to ignore the growing feeling in his stomach as he noticed the distance that was now between the two of them.

It wasn’t an unusual amount of space, per se, but the pair had pretty much become attached at the hip after moving into the Haus at the beginning of the year. To literally everyone’s surprise, including their own, they actually managed to get along. Derek was used to casually touching Dex by now so much so that he had to force himself from reaching back out to touch the other man again.

(But would Dex really be mad if he reached out to him? Was Dex also reaching out for Derek when he wasn’t looking? Derek really, _really_ hoped that was the case.)

“Nah bro,” he said after a minute of silence had stretched between them. “I just finished bio, _thank fuck_ , so I’m done until Friday.”

“Gotcha,” said Dex, turning slightly towards the library, but still not moving away from Derek’s side. “I guess you’re going to want to go back home and crash now?”

Derek tried not to let his brain get tied up on the fact that Dex used the word home to describe the room that they both practically lived in. Even though Dex had moved into the basement, the amount of times that he had wound up sleeping over in Derek’s room upstairs was more than he could count. It was like they both knew the space was necessary, but they couldn’t help but still be drawn towards one another again at the end of the day.

Though he had heard Dex say _home_ like that countless times before, it still made Derek’s pulse race and heart fill with longing at the thought of that as something _more_.

Derek hummed in response, before smirking over at Dex. “You know, I was actually considering hanging at the library for a bit, maybe doing some writing.”

Dex cocked an eyebrow.

“Or maybe I was just going to sit with my notebook open and annoy you every ten minutes or so.”

Dex rolled his eyes and finally turned his body all the way to the doors. He started walking up the steps, but Derek felt himself stuck in place. After a couple steps, Dex turned around to look back at him and Derek watched as the golden rays of the setting sun washed over his face. 

“You coming or what, Nursey?”

Derek blinked up at him.

_Always_ , he thought, before smiling up at his best friend. _Is that even a question?_

The library was pretty much empty, so the pair had their pick of empty tables to choose from. Derek pulled out his notebook and pretended to write but he was more focused on the way that Dex’s fingers seemed to dance over the keys on his keyboard.

Derek let himself be distracted, and tried to soak up as much of Dex’s presence as he possibly could before summer break would start. Being around Dex was like being around an extension of himself, kind of like how New York city was a part of him too. Though New York’s connection ran deep; attached to every nerve ending and muscle fiber throughout his body. 

Dex, well, Dex was no New York City. That bond had been formed over years of living in and loving everything about that city. But his connection to Dex, one that he couldn’t deny no matter how hard he tried, seemed to constantly move around Derek; like the ghost of a feeling on the back of his neck or the breeze that causes the hair on his arms to stand up.

If New York City was the blood that ran through his veins, then Dex was the air that Derek chose to breathe.

Derek didn’t know how long he sat there pretending to write, pretending to not stare at his best friend, pretending that the words he longed to fill the pages in front of him with didn’t tell stories of a man with golden eyes and calloused hands. He was torn from his thoughts when he heard Dex clear his throat.

“You should come with me to Maine this summer,” Dex said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet despite the fact that they were sitting in the library. Derek looked up from his notebook and watched as the tips of Dex’s ears turned red. “You know, since you always complain about not having anyone to hang out with over the summer and all it would be cool if you came and stayed with my family. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I think you’d actually really like it and—”

“Dex,” Derek said, cutting the other off. “I’d love to come visit. Are you sure your parents won’t mind?”

Derek watched fondly as Dex laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Fondness was quickly becoming a feeling he commonly associated with Dex, and Derek wasn’t quite sure when that exactly happened.

“Of course they won’t mind, Nursey. I’ve already asked, plus I think my mom likes you more than they like me and all of my siblings combined, and they’ve only met you like three times.”

At that statement Derek broke out into a grin. “Well in that case I have to come then. I can’t let down Mrs. P. now can I?”

He watched as the corner of Dex’s mouth twitched, as though the other man was holding back a smile. “You definitely can’t.”

So that’s how Derek found himself Friday afternoon sitting in the passenger’s side of Dex’s old truck, heading north on the highway away from both Samwell and New York City. As the campus faded into the distance, Derek could practically feel the pulse of New York city beating louder and louder, like it was calling out for Derek.

His pulse throbbed in his neck, a steady chant of _New York, New York, New York_ , but Derek swallowed it down.

New York City would always be a constant in Derek’s life. 

That much he knew was certain. This summer was not; the moments he was currently taking in and would be lucky enough to live through, were not a guarantee. He wanted more chances to live through this summer again and again; to sit next to his best friend and sing along to shitty 2000s music and steal gummy bears when the other was paying attention to the road.

He wants to see where Dex called home, what kind of a city is etched into the constellations on his skin and written in the palms of his hands. This summer was going to be his chance. He was going to do whatever it took to make Dex a constant in his life. 

New York would have to wait. 

Five hours and many bad renditions of Brittany Spears songs later, Derek and Dex pulled into the driveway of Dex’s childhood home. The sun was setting, casting golden shadows over the exterior of the house and into the windows of the truck. Derek took in the Dex, who was covered in that same warm sunny glow, and immediately knew that it was a sight he’d want to remember for as long as he lived.

“Well,” said Dex locking eyes with Derek, his voice barely above a whisper, “welcome to Bar Harbor.”

In his gut, Derek felt something shift. He could feel the New York inside him begin to stir and move, as if it was shifting to make room for something new. He felt as the golden rays of bar harbor began to soak into his soul, and looked back at Dex with a smile.

“It’s a good thing we made it before dark, I’m sure Mrs. P. is looking forward to seeing her favorite child.”

Dex laughed and shoved him and Derek laughed back, and the sound that echoed throughout the cab of the car was loud and breathy and one hundred percent Bar Harbor.

-

It was easy to fall into a routine in Bar Harbor. 

Here, Dex was an early riser. Derek learned that it was a habit formed from years working on his Uncle’s lobster boat. The early bird catches the worm, the early lobster catches… whatever lobsters eat, Derek assumed. He was ninety percent sure that was an actual phrase, anyway.

Derek rarely found himself getting up that early with Dex, as the other man would get out of bed at four thirty in the morning like it was the easiest thing in the world. Derek wasn’t sure how he did it, especially because of the fact that more often than not the two of them were staying up until midnight watching Parks and Rec. 

Derek found himself sleeping until Dex had returned from helping his uncle, around like eight or nine. He always came in the room quietly, slipping in as softly as the sunrise. Every morning Dex was the first thing he saw, and it was a sight that Derek never wanted to give up.

(Maybe Dex wanted to see Derek first thing in the morning, too. Maybe Dex was holding back the urge to wake up him right then and there, so that they could share those extra few hours before the rest of the world woke up.

At least, that’s what Derek hoped.)

These early mornings were something Derek learned to treasure. Dex, _Will_ , was always softer in the mornings. His eyes always shone a little bit brighter and smiles seemed to spread across his face with more ease. Derek would take all the chirping in the world about his horrible bed head if he could relive these moments every morning. 

It was moments like these in Bar harbor where Derek found himself learning again and again that the Dex he knew at Samwell was different from the Dex he knew in Maine.

It wasn’t drastic, these differences, but Derek knew him well enough to notice that Dex seemed to breathe easier when the shoreline was in sight. His shoulders never seemed as tense as they did at Samwell when they walked along the docks after dinner, breathing in the salty sea air and silence that came along with it. It was like Dex was in his element, and Derek had never seen him look more content than when he was surrounded by the song of the sea and the breeze that seemed to cascade off of the tops of it’s waves.

In Maine, Dex wasn’t simply Dex. _Hell_ , he wasn’t even just Will Poindexter. It was like he became the embodiment of everything that the small coastal town he was born and raised in had to offer. From the docks to the doormat of his house, Dex was more than just Will Poindexter, he was Bar Harbor through and through.

Just like Derek Nurse sang the songs of New York City, Will Poindexter bled the waters of Bar Harbor.

-

As the months began to blur together, May slowly morphing into June and July and August, Derek couldn’t help but notice that he had slowly fallen in love with Bar Harbor.

And from learning to love Bar Harbor, Derek couldn’t help but realize that he loved the man that showed him it as well.

The love, Derek realized quickly after the initial shock had worn off, had been there for months. It had been there dormant during the dib flip, clenching around his heart when Will moved out, and flowing through his veins when Will finally let him back in. The love was there in every practice; every early morning skate to late night scrimmage. It was there on the good days and the bad ones; from championships to final exams.

Falling in love with Will was as easy as falling in love with New York. Though on the surface the two were vastly different. Will was as foreign as the city was familiar. But love doesn’t stick to only what it knows; it thrives on curiosity and want and desire.

New York City pushed him out so he could grow, Will let him in so he could flourish. 

Derek watched from the shoreline, toes dancing with the water’s edge, as Will played in the surf with his younger siblings. In that moment he could hear every song in his body playing together in harmony; New York’s steady bass thumping in time with Bar Harbor’s melodies. When Will looked over at him smiling, eyes shining bright with happiness, Derek could feel him intertwining with New York inside his soul.

It was impossible for Derek to do anything but smile back.

-

A week before they planned to return to Samwell, Will brought up the idea to go out and sit on the docks at midnight.

(“My friends and I used to do it all the time,” he said to Derek while they were laying in his room that night. “It was always like an end of summer tradition.”

“You want me to be a part of that tradition, bro? I’m honored,” Derek replied, watching a light blush spread across Will’s cheeks.

“I know it’s kind of silly and all, but yeah, I do.”

Derek’s could hear his pulse jump to his throat. The sincerity of Will’s tone practically short-circuited his brain. In the silence that spread between them, Derek watched as Will’s blush spread even further across his face.

“I’m down,” he managed to choke out finally, hoping his voice wasn’t actually as rough as it sounded. If it was, Will didn’t mention it. Instead, he only reached out to grab Derek by the arm and pull him towards the bedroom door. 

Derek seriously hoped that Will couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating.)

The night was cool but clear, and Derek could see stars stretch across the horizon for as far as he could see. Two beers were sitting open and untouched between them as moonlight shone down on the waves that licked at the bottoms of their feet.

There was something hanging in the air between them, heavy yet not unfamiliar. Derek chose to ignore it in favor for watching the waves lap around his ankles. He knew that once he looked at Will, he wouldn’t be able to pull his gaze away.

_Will_.

At some point _Dex_ had turned into _Will_ in Derek’s mind. Will was everything Dex was and more, and the name burned in his chest like the first sparks of a fire. It flickered in a way that felt warm and familiar, as though the burning had been there for longer than he could remember.

He couldn’t wait any longer, finally breaking his gaze away from the water so he could turn towards Will. He was surprised to see that Will was already looking at him, an unreadable expression covering his face.

Will was bathed in moonlight; his freckles were illuminated like constellations, as though each one was stolen from the night sky and placed individually across his cheeks. He almost wanted to take a picture, really, so he could go back and look at Will again and again and again. He wanted to remember everything from the way that the moonlight bounced off his hair to the blush on his cheeks to the smile threatening to split across his face.

Derek was sure that no gallery wall in Brooklyn could compare to the work of art sitting before him.

“You look good here, man.” Derek found himself saying, unable to stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. He blamed Bar Harbor for his honesty, the moonlight for his courage, and the love that was threatening to pour out of him at a moment’s notice for his boldness. 

He watched as Will’s cheeks turned an impossible shade of red, one that should have been more embarrassing than attractive, but Derek grinned anyway as he felt his heartbeat getting faster.

“I’m serious,” he continued after a moment. “You’re like, I don’t know man, more _you_ here?”

Will laughed, and Derek suddenly wanted to be able to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

“And you’re supposed to be the poet,” Will chirped, his lips forming a soft smile across his face. It was a smile that Derek had learned only very few people ever saw.

“You know what I mean, bro, it's like you’re you but amplified here. More confident, more comfortable,” Derek said, raising his eyebrows before continuing, “more _chill_.”

Will groaned and rolled his eyes, reaching out to playfully shove at Derek’s shoulder. Derek let himself be pushed, feeling the warmth of Will’s hand on his skin, before reaching out and grabbing it with his own. Derek wasn’t sure why he did it, but the blush that resurfaced quickly on Will’s face made it worthwhile.

“I hate you,” Will said, his voice soft and impossibly fond. Derek almost thought he was imagining it.

“No you don’t,” Derek replied, shifting his gaze to where Will had intertwined their fingers. When Will smiled at him it was like all the stars in the sky were choosing to shine down on them at that very moment.

“You’re right,” Will said after a moment, his voice barely audible over the sound of the waves, but Derek heard him loud and clear. “I don’t hate you at all.”

“I don’t hate you either, for the record.”

Will rolled his eyes before flicking his gaze to their still intertwined hands. “Wow Derek, I never would have guessed.”

_Derek_.

His name rolled off of Will’s lips like it was the easiest thing in the world, and maybe it was. At some point for Will, Nurse had turned into Nursey had turned into _Derek_. Hearing his name spoken like that, soft yet sincere, Derek finally remembered what it was like to breathe.

It was like being back in New York; like being back in his family’s brownstone or on top of the empire state building or outside on the high line all wrapped into one. It had never been this easy to breath outside of New York before, but hearing his own name whispered like a prayer through Will’s lips made it seem like the easiest thing in the world.

Being with Will was like that; simple, easy.

“Will,” he whispered, and he wasn’t even sure that his voice could be heard over the sound of the ocean. But Will seemed to hear him anyway and moved in closer. Derek wanted to name every constellation that was painted across his skin, wanted to write his own name into those stories.

“Derek,” Will mumbled again, the space between them reduced to practically nothing. He could feel Will’s breath inches away from his lips, warm and inviting. 

When their lips touched, Derek let himself go under.

He let the water flood over him, drowning out the pulse of New York, the whispers of Bar Harbor, so the only thing swirling around his brain was _Will._

Will, who’s laughter sounded like sunshine and smile made Derek weak in his knees. Will, who always made sure to bring extra food for Derek on roadies cause he would always forget and leave out advil on his nightstand on nights when there were kegsters. Will, who’s heart was so big that he couldn’t push people out if he tried.

He felt Will sigh against his lips, a sound filled with relief and wanting, so Derek pressed forward. Reaching out with his free hand, he gently cupped Will’s face, pulling him closer as Will’s other arm wound itself around his waist. He wasn’t sure when his eyes had closed, but when they fluttered open he saw Will’s staring right back at him.

“Hi,” he whispered, though the sound was lost as Will pulled him back in for another kiss.If that was the alternative to talking, Derek would gladly never speak again.

-

They wandered back into the house as dawn was threatening to break over the horizon. Their hands were still intertwined as Will led him back inside the house and up into his bedroom. 

“You’re up early today,” Will whispered, his voice just as soft as it was on the dock.

Derek laughed quietly before kissing him again. He felt Will smile against his mouth and pulled away. “I guess getting up early isn’t so bad if it means I get to do this.”

“You don’t have to wake up early to be able to do this,” Will murmured, hands finding their way around Derek’s waist. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Derek.”

Derek smiled. 

“Okay, Will.”

-

As the sun set on summer, Derek found himself back in the cab of Will’s truck.

He watched as Will intertwined their hands over the console, rough calloused fingers fitting in perfectly with long, nimble ones, interlocking like puzzle pieces; two halves of the same whole.

He feels the rumble of the truck’s engine come to life as Will turns the key, the sound drumming through Derek as though it was the pulse of Bar Harbor itself. And maybe it was, in a way. Maybe everything Will touched amplified the song of this city; from the sounds of the truck to the waves crashing in the distance to the music playing on the radio.

Though he could feel the summer bleeding away with every mile passing between them and Bar Harbor, Derek couldn’t help but feel like he was finally floating. The waves around him were calm; relaxed by the layers of cities that swirled around inside him.

New York, with its busy streets and diverse cultures and late night secrets, and Bar Harbor, with its windy back roads and rocky beaches and stolen kisses.

Derek looked over at Will and _breathed_.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on tumblr about nurseydex at [@adambirkholtz](https://adambirkholtz.tumblr.com/)!!


End file.
